


Gemma's Lesson

by killingg_eve



Category: Killing Eve (TV 2018)
Genre: But Noooooooooo instead I'm writing Gemillaneve, F/F, Gemillaneve, Gemma - Freeform, H Word, Happy Gemma Weekend!, I'm supposed to be packing! or cleaning!, Someone sent a CC to Azra
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-20
Updated: 2020-09-23
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:07:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26568550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/killingg_eve/pseuds/killingg_eve
Summary: Someone sent a CC to Miss Azra (Twitter artist @azahuhh) that said like, "V teaches Gemma what to do during sex, all while V starts to lose control," and that person wins the consolation prize of [*drumroll*] THIS fiction.Usually I just write tenderness, but this is my first time writing/publishing a NSFW. Please enjoy and uh, happy Emmys day.
Relationships: Eve Polastri/Villanelle | Oksana Astankova, Gemma/Eve Polastri/Villanelle | Oksana Astankova
Comments: 20
Kudos: 79





	1. Chapter 1

Gemma tentatively approaches Eve. She looks down at Eve’s parted, full lips and leans in to kiss her. Eve is pliable—sure, she can be darkly dominant, but she is permissive, now, under Gemma. (She offers her the reigns, really.)

Gemma makes contact and then stalls. The kiss becomes a small peck. Gemma freezes.

Gemma was planning on so much; she longed to smooth her hands over Eve’s sides, pull her closer, hear Eve’s whimper when her tongue breached Eve’s lips.

The result is an embarrassment. Gemma inhales, and it’s jagged, and wonders if Eve will be willing to take over, if they are to continue.

“What are you doing?” comes Villanelle’s voice, from behind them.

Gemma leans into Eve for comfort, for safety. She loosely wraps an arm around Eve’s waist and her shoulders become tense as she looks to Villanelle, expecting the worst.

\--

_Villanelle, the woman who spared Gemma’s life. She’d ached to kill Gemma, since she couldn’t kill Niko. Because who the fuck cheats on Eve? Eve, so beautiful, drenched in light and ordinariness, yet dark beneath the eyes—to anyone who could perceive of it._

_Villanelle had secured a bag over Gemma’s head, tying it off with “Fragile” tape: mockery of the lonely cat lady, really. And in Gemma’s final gasps for air, she had reached for Villanelle’s hand and brought it—not to the bag—to her breast. The look in Gemma’s eyes showed that she meant it. It wasn’t a gag. Gemma saw something in Villanelle’s eyes (maybe it was Villanelle’s softened face, depicting her fascination as Gemma drew closer to death) and suddenly didn’t want to be so alone. It was as if the contact she sought from Villanelle was meant to be her comfort, her companionship, while she departed._

_In that moment, with that particular choice, Villanelle changed her mind. She yanked the bag up and off, gave Gemma some moments to quench her desperation for oxygen, then straddled her hips. She searched Gemma’s eyes again; was she sincerely interested in Villanelle, or was she just trying to escape her doom? Villanelle gave her a contract._

_“If you are going to live, you will abandon Niko and be with me and Eve. If you don’t behave, or if you do anything sly, I will behead you.”_

_Gemma nodded and realized the beauty of the woman hanging above her. Villanelle’s eyes had a shimmer that must have drowned out by her distain for Niko, whenever he was still in the storage room. She was—what could Gemma call her, a beautiful monster? Although still terrified of the woman, she felt turned on. She felt awake, fascinated with the woman, who she deduced must have been a psychopath. And she knew that she would be okay if she opened to Villanelle—what else did she have to lose by trying? At best, she could have a better life than before. Dare she consider it a rebirth? Being at the mercy of Villanelle and Eve, and being beneath their hands—it presented the possibility of fullness. A hope. Closeness that she had yet to know._

_She yanked Villanelle closer by the collar of her button-up shirt and kissed her, once. A seal of the agreement. A signature._

\--

“You don’t get to treat Eve like that,” Villanelle barks.

Eve doesn’t interfere. She only stays still beneath Gemma’s arm, which still hangs loosely around her.

“I’m sorry,” Gemma says in a whisper, just loud enough for both women to hear her plea.

“If you’re going to be here with us, and if you’re going to touch my Eve, you’d better know what you’re doing.”

Villanelle didn’t risk her job and her life for Eve, just to let Eve be treated with haphazard passion, again. Although she could _never_ be comparable to Niko—what with his missionary sex and below average libido—letting Eve be touched by cautionary, unsure fingers would be the closest thing to just leaving her in his hands.

Villanelle approaches Gemma swiftly, then.

“Go into the bedroom,” she barks at Gemma. “Take your clothes off. Be ready for me. I will show you, and maybe later, you will have the _privilege_ of touching my Eve.”

Gemma apologizes to Eve with eye contact alone, then hurries to the bedroom, as she was told.

Villanelle melts into Eve, taking Eve securely into her arms and pulling her close.

“I’m sorry, Eve, I know you need satisfaction.” Villanelle runs her fingers down Eve’s hairline and caresses her cheek. “Thank you for being so patient for me,” she purrs.

Eve becomes soft under Villanelle’s touch, but her eyes swirl darker with need. She wraps her arms around Villanelle’s shoulders and kisses her deliberately.

Villanelle hums into Eve’s mouth. _God, she’s so good at this._ She is patient until Eve is ready to be done kissing, since Eve was promised a stream of orgasms that will now be postponed. Once Eve is finished, Villanelle smooths her hands over Eve’s lower back, then lets her go.

\--

Gemma sits on the foot of the bed, naked, ready for Villanelle. When Villanelle enters the room, Gemma throws her arms over her breasts—not because Villanelle hasn’t seen all of her, before, but because she is still scared.

She has seen Villanelle upset, many times. Villanelle always calms down, eventually, and brings her soft hands over Gemma to sooth her. It’s usually Eve . . . it’s almost always to do with Eve, that Villanelle flares in rage like a rabid dog. Protective, loyal. Gemma knows that’s all it is. That’s why Gemma treats Eve like a delicate thing; in fact, maybe that’s why she was afraid to give Eve pleasure. She was scared that if she did it wrong, Villanelle would be angry. But now that she’s given Eve _nothing_ , Villanelle is also angry. The same result comes from either extreme.

“Baby,” Villanelle purrs at her, drawing closer, “it’s okay. You didn’t know any better, and that’s why we will have a little lesson, hm? And then you’ll know what I expect of you, and then you’ll make Eve come.”

Villanelle climbs onto the bed beside Gemma, wrapping her arms around the woman like a parent.

“You can relax now, baby.” Villanelle kisses the top of her head and pulls Gemma against her chest and strokes her arm, waiting for Gemma to drop her arms from their protective closedness. “I’m going to teach you how to make me feel good.”

Gemma nods and sinks into the embrace.

She longs to please Eve and Villanelle. She feels safe in their presence; it’s the best thing she’s ever known. And she’s greedy for their attention to the point of doing desperate things (baking, cooking, gift-giving). She’ll do anything to receive approval from the two women, lest she be left aside while they blur into each other.

_They were so welcoming—Eve, somehow, by the grace of God, so forgiving. When Villanelle brought Gemma home and explained what Gemma did in the storage room, and what she agreed to, Eve slapped her across the face (one good, stinging slap) and then immediately pulled her into a hug. She listened to Gemma’s apologies for how she’d become hungry for Niko’s attention . . . how he was the only one who ever spoke to her, among their staff, and such. And Eve forgave Gemma and held her while she cried and apologized more, till there were no more apologies she could give._

“I’m going to lay myself down, Gemma, and I am going to tell you exactly what to do to me.”

Villanelle pulls all of her clothes off in a rush, throwing them off of the bed.

“I’m really sorry,” Gemma says. These are the first words she’s spoken. “I know that Eve deserves the best. She deserves everything—more than I could ever give her.”

“Good girl,” Villanelle says, pleased that she knows how high the bar is set. “I think you know that I cannot say ‘It is okay,’ but yes, I do forgive you. Now, come here.”

Villanelle lays down and opens her legs for Gemma. She isn’t shy.

Gemma’s eyes fall to her center. She practically gasps at the sight. “You’re so beautiful,” she says, quietly.

“Thank you, baby,” Villanelle coos. She knows she is beautiful. “What is your instinct, what do you think you should do, first?”

Gemma’s eyes dance all across Villanelle’s body, hoping that her glances will land on a part of Villanelle that bears the answer.

“Your b—your breasts,” Gemma finds herself saying.

“That’s a good start, yes.”

Gemma reaches towards Villanelle’s chest, keeping Villanelle’s eye contact until she receives a nod. Yes, a permissive nod. She lowers her gaze and brushes her hand over a breast. Then strokes the underside with her thumb. Then teases the nipple with her thumb.

Villanelle moans because it isn’t as difficult for Gemma to explore, as she thought it’d be. Maybe it’s instinctive. Maybe it’s primal.

“That’s good. Don’t be afraid to be rougher. You can pinch.”

So Gemma does, immediately. She pinches the nipple. She brushes her thumb around it in circles and pinches again.

Villanelle’s breathing becomes unsteady, and she lets out a groan.

Gemma perceives of the ‘green light’ reaction and brings her other hand to the other breast, mirroring them as they brush and pinch and flick and caress. And then she (unexpectedly) covers each breast with her full palms and squeezes, kneads, pushes them up, admiring the weight and feel of them . . . the perfect roundness, the fullness, perkiness.

“Very good. Very good, baby. Your mouth—try your mouth.” Villanelle is already struggling to speak right, and they’ve only just begun.

Gemma lowers her mouth to a breast, keeping Villanelle’s eye contact. She sucks the nipple into her mouth with no preempt. Once inside, she flicks her tongue over it.

Villanelle cries out; it’s perfect.

Gemma releases the nipple but still licks over it, swirling her tongue around. When she sees that Villanelle is pleasured by this, she moves to the other breast and continues the ministrations.

Villanelle’s pleasure is evident in her voice, when she speaks. “Good, very good girl. You will be perfect for my Eve.” The thought of Eve, right now, while receiving this, brings heat to Villanelle’s center.

Gemma raises her head to kiss Villanelle’s mouth, once. She figures that Villanelle deserves kisses and love, as much as she deserves the pleasure of sex.

“Gemma, I need you to touch me, now.” Villanelle hopes that Gemma will be quicker with Eve and read Eve’s body language, so as to not leave her wanting. Villanelle could be strung out and craving, but Eve—never. Eve deserves whatever she wants, when she wants it.

Gemma hovers over Villanelle and starts to draw a finger over Villanelle’s clit, in small circles.

The sudden contact brings Villanelle to buck her hips off of the bed, but she is patient with Gemma. Just as she has been patient with countless others, before.

Gemma feels bad eliciting such a strong reaction, so she kisses Villanelle’s stomach and wraps her arm around Villanelle’s thigh, securely, while she continues administering touches to her clit.

Villanelle struggles to give instructions while she is strung out on such direct stimulation. “Baby, this is good. Sometimes it’s even better if you use your mouth . . . Soon, I will need you to be inside of me.”

Gemma lowers herself from Villanelle’s stomach to her center, with no further prompting needed. She continues the circling of her fingers for a little bit longer while pressing kisses into Villanelle’s pubic bone, getting Villanelle adjusted to the presence of her mouth, down there.

After a moment, Gemma draws her fingers across the rest of Villanelle’s center. Exploratory touches, meant to bring wetness to more areas, as well as to see Villanelle’s reaction to having pressure in different places.

Gemma knows that Villanelle is still waiting what she asked for, and she refuses to leave her wanting, so she finally drags her tongue up the length of Villanelle’s cunt.

“Do I taste good?” Villanelle asks, trying to keep her eyes from closing.

Gemma nods as she settles her tongue over Villanelle’s clit.

“Good. Eve tastes better.” She groans at just the thought.

Villanelle’s head falls back—both because Gemma is flicking her clit and because she knows that she and Gemma will both have a tongue-full of Eve, shortly.

Not even twenty seconds pass of Gemma flicking her clit and experimentally taking it into her mouth, or swirling her tongue, or laying down kisses, and _whatever else_ Gemma is unleashing on her.

“Put two fingers in, Gemma!” Villanelle cannot hide her desperation because if she comes, soon, she will need something inside.

Gemma immediately pushes two in, not needing to be told again. She speaks “Like this?” against Villanelle’s clit, in between kissing and sucking. She feels desperate not to get this wrong. She needs Villanelle to be satisfied, and she needs permission to touch Eve, too. Gemma starts a rhythm while she awaits Villanelle’s answer.

“You know when—” Villanelle is panting and her eyes are rolling back, but she must continue, “when—when—”

Gemma slows down a fraction, or else Villanelle will never get the words out.

“Ah, fuck! When you tell your stupid little school children,” Villanelle’s hips are twitching and she can hardly breathe, and her voice sounds _nothing_ like her own, it is so drenched in bliss.

She continues, “You tell them to ‘come here,’” Villanelle says, holding up a hand to imitate the motion.

Gemma moans against her pussy, still lathering it with kisses and flicks, and it’s a vague outline of ‘Yes.’ She curls her fingers like Villanelle said, finding her swollen g-spot.

“Yeah!” Villanelle cries out, and she’s so fucking grateful that she doesn’t have to explain anything else, because she has finished the tutorial and she’s gonna come, soon.

Gemma starts a rough rhythm, tapping against Villanelle’s g-spot with each thrust. She keeps swirling her tongue over her clit, not minding that Villanelle is becoming weak and desperate and loose, and she is moving and bucking, and not stationary at all.

With a few more thrusts, Villanelle is coming and crying out and bathing Gemma’s hand in wetness while throbbing around her fingers.

Gemma helps her ride it out because _she’s not stupid_ , _thank you_ , and keeps her fingers still inside of Villanelle because sometimes it’s more comforting like that, rather than pulling out immediately and being left with so much emptiness.

“Good, very good,” Villanelle breathes. “Baby, you were so good for me.”

Gemma wonders if she’ll be granted permission to touch Eve, after all—and Eve appears, suddenly, then.

Eve opens the door and comes into the bedroom because she had heard Villanelle come.

Eve quickly comes to Villanelle’s side and caresses her face with both hands, looking into her eyes, which are soft with fulfillment and tiredness. (It’s one of the softest times to witness Villanelle, besides when Villanelle wakes up in the morning, or the rare event that Villanelle soaks in the bath and allows herself to be taken care of.) The two stare at each other for a long time, and Eve only breaks it to bend all the way over and kiss Villanelle. She’s so tender, too, stroking her face and feeling some soft pieces of hair and, finally, wrapping an arm around her shoulder.

When they’re finished, Eve lets go of Villanelle and turns to Gemma.

“Was she good?” Eve asks Villanelle, while staring at Gemma.

“Yes, Eve. She needed the instruction, but then she was wonderful.”

Eve puts a hand on Villanelle’s stomach (to anchor Villanelle, really) and grabs Gemma’s wrist with her other hand, slowly pulling the fingers out of Villanelle.

Villanelle only winces a little bit at the movement, since Eve was so perfect and gave the warning.

Gemma and Eve stare into each other’s eyes while Eve takes Gemma’s wet fingers into her mouth. She cleans them completely—she’d been waiting outside with anticipation to taste Villanelle, honestly.

Eve doesn’t know if she should look at Villanelle or Gemma (and it can’t be both), but regardless, she says, “Will you both please take care of me?”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eve doesn’t know if she should look at Villanelle or Gemma (and it can’t be both), but regardless, she says, “Will you both please take care of me?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh, so this happened.  
> In my computer, it's called "There's a Chapter 2????"
> 
> I realized it's actually complex to write a threesome! It's interesting, though, because there's a lot of freedom to decide whose perspective is capturing a specific moment.
> 
> Anyway, I'll stop rambling and let you read. Please enjoy this absolute filth. <3

Villanelle struggles to stand after the orgasm Gemma drew from her; she becomes lightheaded, especially because she leapt from the bed when Eve made her request.

She pets the ruffles on the front of Eve’s blouse (a designer item she purchased and had tailored to drape over her lover perfectly).

“Yes, Eve. Angel, the keeper of my heart.” Her voice is low and her words leak with her accent. She nestles her mouth against Eve’s neck and places gentle kisses, there.

Eve sighs at the touch, at the very frequency of Villanelle’s purrs. She wraps her arms around Villanelle’s back, feeling the warmth of the soft, bare skin beneath her fingertips.

“I’m sorry we kept you waiting,” then she drops her voice to a whisper that Gemma will not hear, “I’m sorry for coming from someone’s touches that are not yours.” She finds one of Eve’s hands and brings it to her lips, nipping at Eve’s thumb.

Eve rubs her thumb against Villanelle’s bottom lip before pressing it it back into Villanelle’s mouth, just to the end of the knuckle.

Villanelle obediently closes her mouth around it, not even daring to blink while Eve’s eyes are locked on her own. Villanelle longs to tell Eve how much better her hands feel; she hopes Eve understands by eye contact, alone.

Eve kisses her and cradles her face.

Villanelle longs to sink into Eve’s soft kisses and never return, but she’s kept Eve hungry and wanting for far too long, already, so she puts a sliver of distance between their mouths.

“What do you want me to do with you, Eve?” she whispers against her lips with haziness in her voice. “Where do you want her?” she hardly manages to flick her gaze over to Gemma, who is sitting upright and waiting for the pair.

Eve moans, especially because of the first question. The possibilities are vast and her stomach twists with anticipation. She practically pants, when she gives her answer. She, too, drops her voice and speaks into Villanelle’s ear so that Gemma won’t hear.

“I want to take it . . . all of it.”

Her voice (a low growl) is the tone that Villanelle buckles under.

Villanelle groans, and that’s all Gemma hears. Some inaudible whispers and a bellowing groan.

“Maybe she can…” Villanelle pants, “…taste your…” she can’t keep her eyes from scanning over all of Eve, “…delicious cunt.”

Eve shudders at the suggestion and Villanelle lunges for her blouse, undoing all of the buttons without even looking, because she is kissing Eve more and closing her eyes.

“Gemma!” Villanelle wails.

Gemma hurls herself off the bed and comes to the women’s side.

Villanelle can hardly peel herself from Eve’s lips. “Undress Eve,” she demands. And then runs to the other side of the bedroom, in search of something.

Gemma, although terrified, can’t risk another downfall. So she takes Eve’s blouse from her shoulders and unbuttons her trousers and nicely drags them downward so Eve can step out of them, and unclasps her expensive bra, all between “Is this okay?”’s and “Sorry”’s and seeking permissive nods.

And then Eve is standing in her underwear and Gemma’s mouth is gaping at the smoothness of her skin and the hardness of her nipples, and oh, _oh_ , this is why she is Villanelle’s most beloved. Eve is cloaked with beauty and prestige. She is exquisite, in every way. This is why Villanelle gnashes her teeth when it comes to _her_ Eve. This is why Niko is dead; _this is why Gemma was meant to die_.

Gemma only looks at her for a moment, taking jagged breaths, before pulling Eve into a kiss and bringing a hand up to caress her breast. It’s soft, really, like a sign of gratitude and respect, rather than the hunger Villanelle groaned into the room, before.

Gemma reaches for the ends of Eve’s hair and pays homage to its beauty by sweeping her hand under the soft strands. Gemma is wrapped up in Eve. She stands there, in adoration of her, practically shivering, when Villanelle comes back.

“Thank you, Gemma, please go back to the bed,” Villanelle says.

Gemma drops Eve’s hair back on her shoulder as if she’s hesitant to let it go, and then does exactly that. It’s when she’s on her way back that she sees that Villanelle is wearing a harness; all of her promises to take care of Eve have been leading somewhere.

Eve drops to her knees before Villanelle has even reached her, and Villanelle becomes frantic and reaches to take her hands.

“No, no, no.” She helps Eve back to her feet. “Gemma will do that part. Please, my beautiful Eve.”

Eve blushes and leads Villanelle to the bed. She lies down for her lover.

“Gemma.”

And that’s all Villanelle needs to say, because then Gemma kneels before Villanelle and gets to work right away, taking the cock in her mouth to prepare it for Eve. She is diligent without being asked.

Villanelle looks down at her eyes and avoids the urge to thrust into Gemma’s mouth—she’s being so good—she strokes her cheek, instead.

Both of the other women are in awe; Villanelle can be so gentle, like this.

When Gemma is done, Villanelle turns to Eve. She tugs at the waistband of Eve’s underwear. “Can I take these, for you?”

Eve nods and Villanelle pulls them down and tosses them aside, and Eve is wet.

Villanelle sighs at how Eve is glistening and so poised, in spite of it all. “My sweet Eve, we did this to you.” Villanelle hovers over Eve and kisses her.

Villanelle feels a slight tug near her pelvis because Eve seizes the opportunity to direct the toy toward her entrance, immediately.

Villanelle’s cheeks are rosy and she looks down at the sight beneath her with a soft gasp. This sight never fails to be the most fascinating thing she’s ever seen.

Her hips automatically move inward, slowly, because Eve is perfectly ready. It’s a slow, single motion that brings her all the way inside of Eve.

Eve is suddenly full, and the process by which she got there was painless. The nerves of her stomach come alive with the intrusion. She has butterflies, and she knows she’s growing wetter.

Villanelle doesn’t wait long because she knows Eve, by now. All of Eve. She knows Eve is ready, so she starts to move, ever so slowly. She stares into Eve’s eyes and both of them take so much pleasure, having a full conversation without words. Besides Eve’s pretty gasping sounds and little whines, and the audible, broken rhythm of her breathing, it is quiet.

“Gemma,” Villanelle pants, not wanting to address Gemma—not wanting to take any part of her mind from Eve. (Her eyes don’t budge; she is blissed out on Eve.) “Touch Eve.”

Gemma slots in perfectly and lies beside Eve, brings a cautious finger to Eve’s clit, and awaits a sign that she can start to flick and rub.

Eve moans because her cunt is full of Villanelle, and Gemma’s dainty fingertip is resting on the underside of her clit.

Gemma makes gentle circles to accommodate for the fact that Eve is receiving so much other stimulation. Eve is soaking wet, and warm, and soft. Before long, she heeds Villanelle’s advice from earlier and tastes Eve from her fingertip.

“You taste so good,” Gemma says, quietly. It’s the only words that she’s said, so far.

Eve almost bucks her hips, but she’s too full. She lets out a nearly-pained whine when Gemma’s fingertip comes back to her clit to continue circling.

“Isn’t Eve beautiful?” Villanelle finds herself asking, blushing again when she looks down to Eve’s center and all of the attention they’re lathering it with.

“Extraordinary,” Gemma says. “I’m so lucky,” she says to both of them.

“Good girl,” Villanelle whispers to Gemma, but her eyes are still locked on Eve’s, on whatever conversation their eyes are having.

Gemma moans, a little bit—

\--Eve moans _more_ and blushes, accepting the words, unexpectedly, turning her head to the side and closing her eyes, and feeling closer to coming.

Gemma kisses Eve because Eve is suddenly facing towards her. She is slow and gentle, like she’s making out with someone for the first time in her life. It’s in direct opposition to the bluntness of the rest of what’s happening to Eve.

Villanelle whines loudly and thrusts a little bit harder into Eve, each time, wanting to bring her further along.

Eve practically cries into Gemma’s mouth.

Gemma acts on instinct alone and hooks her arm under Eve’s thigh, bringing her finger back to Eve’s clit to continue what she was doing—

\--and Villanelle catches onto this and pushes Eve’s other thigh back—

\--and they’re both holding Eve open and pleasuring her clit and fucking her hard, all at the same time, like nothing else exists—

\--and something about being suspended like this, fucked like this, _held open_ , makes Eve come hard and moan so loudly that a few tears fill her eyes. She clenches around the toy and is grateful that both women are holding her legs, because she falls completely limp.

Villanelle awaits an opportunity to pull out of Eve with great caution, and finds that Eve’s eyes are still closed, when she does.

The women set her legs back down on the bed.

“Vil—ah, . . .” Eve says in between exhausted breaths.

Villanelle expertly pulls the harness off and comes to her side, immediately. She puts an arm beneath Eve’s head and an arm across Eve’s middle, pulling her in and holding her tight, and looks down, into Eve’s eyes.

Eve’s eyes have softened so much. Washed over with serenity.

Gemma is witnessing the love between them, and she backed away from them, at some point.

Villanelle almost forgets Gemma is in the room, but Gemma can help with this, too. Villanelle’s voice is possibly the softest it’s ever been when she says, “Gemma, come hold Eve, with me.”

Gemma slots herself in and offers her shoulder for Eve to lay her head on. She puts her arm across Eve, too, right above where Villanelle’s is.

Just like that, the two take care of Eve and sooth her. After a few minutes, Eve’s breathing becomes relaxed.

Villanelle continues in her soft, gentle tone, after a while. “Do you like those words, Eve?”

Eve only nods sleepily and hums.

“You are very good, Eve. You’re the _best_ girl.”

When Villanelle and Eve share long kisses, Gemma continues to hold Eve and softly stroke her side.

Villanelle turns as if she’s going to move away from Eve.

Eve knows why (Villanelle wants to clean her up), but she protests. She secures her arms around Villanelle and holds her in a tight embrace. Her pout is pronounced.

“Okay, baby, okay.” Villanelle turns to Gemma, “Gemma, will you please clean Eve up? Please be gentle. She is sensitive, yes?”

Gemma is more than willing, and she moves to the end of the bed to do so. She carefully draws her tongue through Eve’s folds. She accidentally moans at the pleasant taste of consuming Eve directly.

Villanelle holds Eve close and tight while Gemma works.

When Gemma is finished, she looks to Villanelle for further instructions. She hopes that there aren’t too many more, because she has become impossibly wet and aroused, throughout the day’s events. Truthfully, she was keyed up since the moment Villanelle had undressed for her.

Villanelle crooks a finger at Gemma, who obliges. Once up by the pair, Villanelle kisses Gemma. Villanelle is greedy, finding her tongue, and all. When Villanelle grunts, it’s clear that the main purpose of the kiss was to taste Eve from her mouth.

Still, Villanelle is pleased with Gemma. Although she had been distracted by Eve, she spent some moments plotting what she could do to relieve Gemma’s needs.

Villanelle runs her eyes over Gemma’s full body, finally giving it more attention. “You’re dripping,” Villanelle says, when her eyes land on Gemma’s cunt.

“Oh!” Gemma exclaims in apology, sitting back on her heels to hide the fact that yes, she is dripping wet, and frankly, it’s to an embarrassing degree.

With nonverbal confirmation from Eve, Villanelle releases Eve from her embrace.

“No, no. It’s actually incredibly sexy,” Villanelle says, moving closer to Gemma and raising an eyebrow.

Gemma only blushes and looks down at her knees. She realizes that it’s her turn. She didn’t know she was going to even _have_ a turn, but here it is.

Villanelle sits near Gemma. “Put your back against me,” she instructs, opening her knees so that Gemma can sit flush against herself.

Once Gemma falls against her, Villanelle kisses her shoulder and then her neck while reaching towards her center.

“What do _you_ like?” Villanelle asks in a hushed tone. She knows that Gemma knows what she and Eve like, but Gemma hasn’t had a chance to express what types of things she likes.

Gemma is flustered at the question. “Oh, ehm,” she practically chokes over her words, “pretty much anything . . .”

Villanelle lays a finger on Gemma’s clit, causing the woman to become silent. Villanelle imitates Gemma’s accent. “Maybe some circles, maybe some pressure?” Her other hand trails up to Gemma’s breasts while her words tease her. “Two fingers, usually, but today, three?”

Gemma is blushing and her eyes are closing. She’s so aroused from everything that’s happened. Villanelle has hardly touched her, yet, but she has a feeling she will be ruined, soon.

Villanelle starts to rub and flick her clit, and her touch is surprisingly gentle. Maybe she knows that Gemma always likes to initiate sex with something sweet—loving, perhaps. She manages to find the perfect spots to touch Gemma, without ever needing to ask.

Eve has only been watching, but she suddenly comes back to life. Gemma really is _soaking_ wet, and Eve can tell that it won’t take much—especially if Villanelle is giving it to her.

Eve kneels before Gemma, who can hardly believe that _Eve_ is in front of her.

Gemma moans as she watches Eve lick two of her own fingers. She tries to open her legs further, as Eve’s hand comes closer to her body.

Eve sinks two in and curls them.

Gemma falls harder against Villanelle, unable to support any part of herself, now.

Villanelle is strong and doesn’t budge when Gemma’s body rams against hers.

Eve starts a rhythm, and Gemma is awestruck by the feel of her hands. She is reminded, once again, that Eve is matchless. Extraordinary.

Villanelle continues working at her clit, but even she becomes a little bit stalled, at the sight before her. Her eyes get a little bit darker, again, and she suggests something to Eve.

“Do three, Eve,” Villanelle says with fascination.

Eve adds a third finger to Gemma and is surprised when Gemma’s body accommodates it—although Gemma herself cries out in surprise.

“Eve!” Gemma cries. She can hardly speak.

Villanelle makes her circles a little bit faster, and the slightest bit harder, and kisses the soft spot of Gemma’s neck.

“Villanelle!” Gemma gasps. And then, “Eve! Villanelle! Please!”

With only a few more moments of crying out their names, Gemma loses her ability to put the syllables together properly, and she cries out while she comes.

Villanelle, to everyone’s surprise, holds Gemma very warmly, while her orgasm dwindles. She hugs Gemma’s stomach and presses soft kisses on her shoulder.

Eve watches for a bit while she licks at her fingers, then hovers over Gemma and kisses her passionately.

When the moment passes, Eve cups Gemma’s face and speaks to Villanelle while searching Gemma’s eyes. “I like her,” she states.

“I think she is good for us, yes? Right, Gemma?”

Gemma nods and finds herself lost to Eve’s eyes.

Villanelle becomes darker, then; sinister. “She can take care of you all day long, when I am not here.”

Gemma gasps at the realization that perhaps that was the plan, all along.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to everyone on Twitter who is allowing all of this to continue and grow. #Gimillaneve Always *hunger games whistle*

**Author's Note:**

> Don't forget to give support to Azra and revolutioneyed and not_breakable (I hope I'm not forgetting anyone). They've done an amazing job of convincing the fandom that Gemma deserved to live and (frankly) T H R I V E . They laid down the groundwork, otherwise I never would've made this thing.


End file.
